Breaking Rules
by agentcarter12
Summary: Septa Mordane and Sansa both had one rule. One simple rule; don't kiss anyone who isn't betrothed to you. Arya stark didn't break the rule. She smashed it with a hammer into shards when she met Gendry again. [slightly AU]


**Summary: **Septa Mordane and Sansa both had one rule. One simple rule; don't kiss anyone who isn't betrothed to you. Arya stark didn't break the rule. She smashed it with a hammer into shards.

X

Arya started regretting even waking up in the morning after five minutes of listening to her sister start giving lectures. Her sister, now lady of Winterfell, and Jon, sitting on the throne as his half sister paraded around, calling for the attention of all the lords and ladies seated. Arya yawned, unsuccessfully trying to chase away the anxiousness to leave which was threatening to cover her features. She took a deep breath, and her chest constricted due to the small- no, tiny corset Sansa had threatened her into wear.

She didn't like anything about how she was dressed. Her dress was white, and it had been so long she'd asked the servants if it was her wedding day. She'd told Kiran, her newest helping girl, who'd thankfully shortened it enough to reach slightly over her ankles. Her stockings felt itchy, and her shoes were too tight to be comfortable. Her hair, which she'd cut even after Sansa had told her not to, had been pinned back in the latest fashion, too much and the back of her head ached like it did once when she hit it on a tree while she was young. It reached to just a few inches of her back. A few strands, she'd pulled out of the clip, and blew them around, utterly tired of all the shenanigans.

She didn't even bother listening to a word her sister said, and sat on her throne with her head in her hand. She had turned seventeen three months ago, and returned one month ago, surprised to see some of her family still alive. After all the happy hugging and crying, they'd all resumed their roles. Even with so much different, some things were still the same. Sansa was still Sansa, telling her that now she'd have to be a more dignified lady who took care of herself.

She didn't want this! She wanted anything but this. She wanted running around, and shooting animals and hunting in the forests and, well, not sitting on a throne doing nothing. But Sansa had gone through her circle of ways she used to make the person agree to what she'd wanted. She'd coerced her, begged her, threatened her at some places, and then asked her to silently do it for the sake of the blood they shared; for the dignity of their father's kingdom.

And so, Arya Stark sat on her throne, huffing air at the strands coming down to her face, in her own personal bubble of regret and self-pity.

And when she saw him, all regret went flying right out the window. Words like 'ser Gendry Baratheon' and 'graced us with his presence' flew into her ears from Sansa's lips. The shock was numbing. Her mouth dropped open, and she stared like a miracle was taking place in front of her. She clutched the side bars of the throne in her state, leaning back.

When Gendry's eyes met hers, he stumbled a bit out of shock. Sansa was still talking, but both of them couldn't hear a word. He smiled a little, not knowing which emotion to portray first.

Relief and shock flew out the window, and anger took it's place first in Arya's mind. She gazed at him with a burning passion that would have left him slaughtered on the floor if looks could kill. She slowly stood up, seething, and started walking. Jon took notice, but didn't say a word. Sansa was too busy with her topic. As Arya slowly walked over, she noticed the changes in her once best friend. He still had the same hair, pure black and they fell over his forehead, longer than before. He was a man now, any and all signs of boyhood gone, strong and athletic by the looks of it. Her fury was too much to let her be distracted.

When she finally reached to where he was standing, he raised his eyebrows waiting for her reaction, and that's when Sansa realized her little sister was standing in front of Gallant Ser Gendry.

"Arya?" she called out. "Arya, what are you-"

Arya Stark ignored her, lifted her hand and delivered a slap to Gendry's face. Jon winced but didn't get up even then. Sansa was appalled, and a sharp intake of breathe could be heard; the lords and ladies no doubt.

"So you are a lady, then. I should be calling you milady." Gendry said, his hand on his cheek, a smile still marring his face.

"Do not call me milady!" she yelled, pushing him slightly as he laughed.

It was anger's turn to leave, now. Arya found herself smiling back slightly, however much she didn't wish to. She also found herself appreciating his new self. And so, she decided to act on her stupid desire like every other stupid thing she acted on. She briefly remembered sansa and Jeyne, and Septa Mordane having discussions about men and do's and don'ts. She remembered the first rule they'd all tried to carve into themselves and her that day. One rule. Don't kiss any other man other than your betrothed. Arya always broke rules, always; but this was the time she smashed the rule into pieces with sledge hammer.

She didn't notice her sister's yelling or her brother's amused face. She didn't notice the eyes widening of every single person who sat in the room. All she did notice was that her old, best friend was standing in front of here after so long. And so she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

Everyone in the room fell to silence, thrown into pit of shock, including Gendry. After a while she pulled back, barely having time to register what she'd just done.

"Well, that was unladylike, milady." He replied, licking his lips as soon as he caught his breath and shock faded.

She almost laughed, but thankfully reigned it in. Instead she pushed him, hard. Nostalgia lingered in the air. He stumbled back, laughing.

"I'm not joking! Do not call me milady!" she said, calm again.

"As milady commands." He said, teasing.

She pushed him back again, harder, smiling.

After their charades were over, she noticed the looks people were giving them. He however, didn't.

"Can I have a repeat of the kiss to make me feel more welcome?" he asked her, smirking.

She felt like slapping herself across the face, looking at the lord and ladies whispering; the looks on both Sansa and Jon's faces. And then she thought, _to hell with all that. When did she care about who whispered and who made a face?_

"We shall take this conversation outside." She said, trying to remember what the septa had taught her about leaving a table or room.

"Why?" he asked again, teasing.

Sansa Stark internally killed herself, her sister and all the people in the room seventeen times before Arya sighed, and dragged the gallant ser Gendry Baratheon outside with a death grip on his ear. And then after a long, conversation about what the hell happened over the last few years, they kissed again.

It kind of went like this after it was over.

"I'm going to say you've had some practice over the last few years, milady?"

"I am going to shove you later for that. First, come back here and make up for the last six years."


End file.
